Wings of Steel
by JoanIncarnate
Summary: For God's Sense of Humor: a sort of steampunk story. Ichigo never cared about being an aristocrat, prefering the company of his inventions. But one, single discrepancy from his usual lifestyle changes everything. Even so, he doesn't regret meeting him.
1. August Arising

**WARNINGS**:

Yaoi

AU

OOC

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I write simply for the fun of it and am not getting anything except happiness and reviews from this.

This story is dedicated to God's Sense of Humor who requested a steampunk fic for Grimmichi as a prize for my contest back in Random Acts of Kindness. I still don't know if this is what steampunk is supposed to be like but I hope this was what you meant. If not... I'm sorry, I'm kinda dumb. Please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>PROLOGUE:<strong>

"No."

"Come on, Ichi! You _have_ to go!"

"Yeah, you haven't been to a single one in years."

The orange haired boy sighed with his back turned to the two to face his worktable. "I know, I haven't. But you know I hate parties."

"But this isn't a party!" Rukia protested. "It's a ball!"

Rolling his amber brown eyes, Ichigo said, "A ball, a dance, a party. Either way, it's simply a gathering of assholes and idiots waving their aristocracy and wealth in front of others to inflate their already oversized arrogance." His leather-gloved fingers tinkered with the gears of a watch and he carefully prodded the hands. "All under the guise of meaningless social courtesy and grace."

The petite raven haired girl glared at her childhood friend. "Have you forgetten that I'm one of those 'assholes and idiots'?"

Ichigo smirked, "No, I definitely mentioned you in there."

Renji laughed riotously at Rukia before she slapped him. "We're _all_ part of that, idiot!" Turning her lavender eyes to her stubborn friend, Rukia persisted. "I know how you feel about these events, but it's part of our duty to keep up with the times and build on relationships."

The boy scoffed and shook his orange head. "I never go to those events precisely because of that. I'd rather not deal with gossip and questions in order to maintain a pretense of friendliness." He shrugged before returning to his latest project: a pocketwatch that doubled as tiny, portable laser. "Besides, suddenly showing up now after so many years of successfully evading these events would just lead to more talk as to why I finally decided to show up for once."

Renji rolled his eyes. "Ichigo, who cares what these people think? People are always going to talk about something; if it's not your antisocial behavior, then it's my tattoos or such-and-such's new fling."

"I know, I know. There's always going to be gossip and everyone's going to be a victim sooner or later, blah blah." Ichigo tuned them out and strained his ears to hear the soft ticking of the pocketwatch in his hands.

Really now, how many times had he heard that from the two of them? Far too many, that's how many. Shouldn't they know by now that he'd never willingly go to one of those pointless, overly-extravagant parties/balls/whatevers without a good cause? Preferably a cause that involved both life and death.

Wait a second.

Ichigo looked at his friends suspiciously. It _was_ odd that they were trying so hard to get him to go; normally, they just accepted his refusals and went without him. He pulled his magnifying goggles up to rest on his orange hair and turned to Rukia and Renji with his arms crossed over his chest. "You two are being awfully persistent about this ball. Do tell, why is this one more important than the others?"

His two friends glanced at each other nervously. Renji pulled at his navy blue coat-tails and Rukia picked at the bottom of her corset. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You never pester me this much about these stupid events." Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "What is it that you need me there for?"

The tall red-head and the short black-haired girl fidgeted under the scrutiny of their best friend's glare until one of them gave in.

Rukia sighed. "Fine. I knew we wouldn't have been able to keep it from you for long."

"You really want to tell him?" Renji looked hesitant, maybe even afraid.

Rukia shook her head. "No, but we have no choice. He was bound to find out eventually." She faced her orange-haired friend seriously. "There's been talk amongst the upper echelons of a new couple."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. This was nothing new in the rumor mill of the aristocrats so what were his friends so worried about? Unless... Apprehension made its way to his throat. He swallowed and the foreboding settled in his stomach. "Who?"

Neither of his friends said anything, instead opting to look at their boots or at the gadgets and gizmos in Ichigo's workroom. Basically, anywhere but at him.

Frowning, Ichigo asked more sternly. "_Who?_"

Silently, Rukia pointed a finger at herself, then slowly directed it to the orange-haired.

"WHAT?" The orange-head jumped up to his feet. "How did this even happen?"

"I don't know!" The raven-haired girl cried frustratedly. "But everyone is taking it seriously and Brother is even expecting a formal marriage proposal from you any day now!"

"But we're not- and I didn't... _what?_" Ichigo stammered.

Renji scoffed at his friends' perplexed expressions. "Considering that you're one of the only females that Ichigo talks to, it's not the strangest assumption to make."

Rukia sniffled and burst into tears. "Nooooooooo! I don't want to marry Ichigooooo," the tiny girl wailed. "He's always so boring and moody! I can't be with someone like that!" Suddenly, she turned her teary eyes to her 'fiance' with a new fire and slapped him. "Stupid Ichigo! This is all your fault!"

The accusation snapped him out of his shock more than the sharp slap across his face. "_My_ fault?" Amber eyes blazed incredulously. "Maybe you don't recall, but I don't want to get married to you either! You're not exactly the loveliest rose in the bush, are you?"

"Rose in the bush?" Rukia's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you're a violent shrew!"

"A _shrew_?" Rukia gasped. "How DARE you call me such a thing! If I am a shrew, then you are a desolate boy who only has his inventing tools as friends!"

"I take it back! A rose is too good for you! You're a leaf! You're a moldy, decaying, rotting leaf that doesn't get any sun and shrivels away in the shadows because not even ants want to get near you!"

"Why, I ought to rip your *** *** off and put it in your *** ***, you ***!"

Ichigo threw his hands up in frustration. "That's exactly what I was talking about! You're simply proving my point here!" The orange-head scowled. "I don't know how you can have the audacity to call yourself a lady of a noble family when your language is as foul as a sewer rat. No, not even, that's an insult to sewer rats everywhere!"

Sensing a fight about to break out between the two, Renji stepped in between them before they demolished yet another place. "Exactly! Neither of you want to get married to each other for reasons that we all understand," he cleared his throat nervously as Ichigo and Rukia glared at him, "which is precisely why you must go."

"What does dragging me out to a ball have anything to do with stopping this insanity?", the orange head growled.

Renji beamed. Finally, they were getting somewhere! "You need to go to this ball to show everyone that you don't fancy Rukia. Show that you can be sociable and friendly to anyone, not just Rukia. When the other aristocrats see that Rukia does not recieve any particular special treatment or favor from you, the rumors will cease!" The red-head grinned proudly. He came up with the plan all by himself, and it was a rather clever ploy if he did say so himself. However, when Renji saw the expression on his antisocial friend, he felt his joy slipping away.

"Surely you jest?" Ichigo scoffed, unimpressed. "Being sociable would not prove anything. For all you know, people may start to suspect me of trying to build up fanfare for our," he wrinkled his freckled nose in distaste, "_wedding_."

Rukia stomped her feet. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Yet another reason why she could never possibly marry him! "Even if they assume so, at the very least, Brother will see you as a flighty, unreliable flirt and won't push me into marrying you!"

"I won't do it." The orange-head crossed his arms. This situation was dire, he couldn't deny that, but it didn't involve life nor death, much less both. "Let them think what they want. Eventually, they'll see that we have no intentions of being wed to one another."

"And who might know how long that shall take?" Rukia cried. "Please, Ichigo! I beg of you! Pleeeaaaaseeeee!" Both she and Renji latched onto his arms and looked up at him with big, desperate eyes.

Ichigo's eye twitched. He hated it when they gave him that look. He knew those faces were completely fake but he could never say no to their innocent, fragile gazes. And doing it together? That was quite low. He tried to divert his eyes from the doe-like purple eyes of Rukia and wounded-puppy eyes of Renji, but he could already feel his resolve slipping.

"Pleaseeee, Ichi?" Rukia tugged his friend's dark gray shirt sleeve with a pout. Ichigo groaned. How dare they use their childhood nickname for him to their advantage? "You won't even have to act the whole time!"

"It's true," Renji chimed in. "It's an All-Hollow's-Eve masquerade ball. Everyone will be in masks and costumes, the whole nine-yards! When you want to get away from it all, just slip on your mask again and blend into the crowd."

Looking back and forth between his two best friends, Ichigo sighed. He knew he was going to regret this but... there _were_ his best friends. Not to mention his bachelorhood was at stake. That counted as _some_ sort of death, didn't it? Reluctantly, the orange-head nodded.

"I'll do it."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

I know what you're thinking. I know you're thinking: " -_- This bitch. She's got 'Random Acts' and 'Picture Perfect' to finish and she just decides to start a brand new fic? Way to keep me waiting! Somebody get me a knife." In my defense... I got nothing, please put the knife down.

I was trying to make them sound very English-y, like they were speaking in the olden times. I was failing miserably because I kept switching between modern-day speech (aka, slang) and what I think is old-English and Ichigo was starting to sound like a pompous, old scrooge so I just made them all speak regular ole' crude modern English again. TT_TT Do I have a British fan out there? Yes, you, can you please beta this fic?

I tried to have this out by Halloween just to be consistent with time but we can all tell how well that idea worked out. By the way, I put "All-Hollow's-Eve" on purpose, since... you know, Hallow, Hollow, Grimmjow= Hollow... :D


	2. September's Starts

**CHAPTER 1:**

"Close your disgusting mouth, lest some putrid word escape from your damned tongue."

Nnoitra looked at his irate companion and covered his yawn with a fist extending a pointed middle finger. "Well, aren't you just being a cranky little Corky today?" When his only reply was a green-eyed glare, Nnoitra scoffed. "Who pissed in your cup of tea?" Slinging a long arm over the bluenette, he grinned. "Come now, Corky, take an example from Grimmjow for once. Lighten up!"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes as the carriage turned a corner and the horses' rhythmic footfalls jostledly him slightly. Not even ten minutes since they snuck out and Ulquiorra was already irritated. Though, in the company of one Nnoitra Jiruuga and one Grimmjow Jeagerjacques, it was inevitable.

Ulquiorra turned to his friend with what looked like an unamused expression, but his friends were able to discern the scathing scowl hiding behind it. "This is precisely why I didn't want to come here," he said, crossing his arms. "As though it wasn't enough being constantly in the presence of your idiocy in Hueco Mundo."

"Tch. As though you would have any sort of fun without me." The lanky man looked over at Grimmjow, who was being oddly reserved today. "What in the hell is the issue with you? Cat got your tongue?"

The bluenette scowled and didn't even bother looking away from the window. "Don't try to be witty when you lack more wit than a spoon," he said with a piercing glare. He shrugged. "I suppose I simply agree with Ulquiorra this time."

He looked up to see Nnoitra openly gaping at him and Ulquiorra eyeing him suspiciously.

Nnoitra burst out laughing, "Aw, why is that? Afraid that I'll be the life of the party and you'll have no one to take home except the ice sculpture?" He clapped a hearty hand on the bluenette's back, "There's no need to be ashamed. Lady Yoruichi tends to hire some excellent ice sculptors."

Grimmjow rolled his blue eyes but, for once, did not rise to the challenge. Sure, these gaudy events were fun once in a while but after spending so much time in Seireitei's most influential circle, the awe and impressive glamour had worn off. He was tired of these superficial events and Aizen was showing signs of impatience with their frequent daliances. Pointless gatherings that were the same thing over and over again, and filtering through the same people over and over again weren't worth the risk of getting punished. Or worse, humilated.

Besides, no one at these parties was ever able to hold his attention for long.

His blue eyes glazed over at the prospect of yet another tedious ball filled with shallow airheads, as the gray-green scenery held his attention. Grimmjow sighed.

"Can we just find you your next victim so that we can get the hell out of here?"

* * *

><p>"Is that who I think it is?"<p>

The extravagantly-dressed woman's companion peered over her fan, in a weak attempt at stealth. She saw the young lady of the noble Kuchiki house along with her brash and crudely tatooed friend. A grimace marred the heavily made-up women's faces at the sight of those barbaric looking symbols. Unsightly as usual. Nothing particular about that. She was just about to ask what was so worthy of attention when the red-headed, tattooed heathen stepped aside, revealing a young man dressed in black. There was something undoubtedly familiar about him, even though all that was visible was the back of his ebony velvet (and remarkably well-fashioned) coat.

"Who is that?" She enquired, at her companion's dismay.

Her companion clucked her tongue. "You mean you do not know? Why, he is the eldest son of Earl Kurosaki!"

Taking a second look at the figure, she realized that the young man was indeed Earl Isshin Kurosaki's heir. "W-well, who could possibly recognize him after all this time?" She sputtered indigantly to defend her lack of common knowledge, "He has not been in the social scene since he was an adolescent boy."

It was common knowledge and old gossip that the oldest Kurosaki child was a recluse and tended to hole up in the main family manor. He hadn't been seen in a social event in years, ever since he turned 14, and from the looks of it, his twin sisters were following in his footsteps. Only the ever-eccentric Earl Isshin still appeared now and then, and even so it was for formal events that were more or less mandatory. Really, the Kurosaki's were a strange bunch, each and every one of them.

"I suppose so," the lady mused. "But I do wonder why he has finally chosen to appear after all this time."

"Oh, it must be for fanfare!" The heavily made-up woman giggled as though she created the theory of evolution. "I hear he and Lady Kuchiki are to be engaged soon."

Her friend scoffed. "I doubt that. Do you not see him frolicking here and there, chatting up every lady he sees? Duke Kuchiki would never let him be with his precious sister."

Both women eyed the Kurosaki boy, taking in every detail.

"My how he has grown," one of them murmured appreciatively.

"I'll say," the other tittered.

At that moment, he turned around and caught their gazes on him. He smirked ever so flirtaciously and raised his glass to them, before drinking a sip with a wink.

Both women fell silent, their blushes speaking volumes for them.

"Good work, Ichigo," Renji whispered.

Ichigo turned his back on the two ladies and scowled. "I feel dirty."

Rukia scoffed. "Nonsense. They didn't even touch you. And did you even see the look on Brother's face?"

Her friend asquisced with a nod towards the dark-haired nobleman. "3 o'clock direction. Watch out because he is most definitely not amused," Renji chuckled.

Ichigo casually looked to the head of the Kuchiki family. Byakuya's knuckles were white from how hard he clutched his glass and his steely gray eyes looked like they were shards of a blade destined to swing down upon Ichigo's neck.

"He looks like he wants to kill me," the orange-head said with a nervous frown.

Rukia giggled, "I know! Isn't it just wonderful?"

He stretched his jaw and massaged the muscles with a gloved hand. Grimacing, Ichigo said, "I think my face is cramping up from all that fake-smiling."

"Oh, no! Whatever shall we do?"

"Lord forbid your face get stuck looking anything but sullen and angry forever," Rukia said sarcastically.

Scowling, Ichigo ran his fingers through his auburn spikes. His hands instinctively went to the spot where his magnifying goggles were usually placed, and Ichigo was a bit surprised until he remembered he didn't have them on for this occasion. "How much more of this? I am already sick of the putrid airs."

Renji smiled sympathetically, knowing he was talking about more than one kind of air, and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sorry, Ichi. We've only just arrived not an hour ago."

"Suck it up and show some brazen courage! You dare call yourself a man," Rukia scoffed. She folded her arms and directed a stern look at her friend. "Now, see those ladies over by the grand stairs? They've been eyeing you for quite a bit now. Go over there and blow their minds away."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

Rukia shrugged. "The seducing part is your job." A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. "But as a general rule, scandalous is always the way to go. It tends to lead to more gossip, which for once is exactly what we want."

"But I-"

"GO."

Huffing, Ichigo set his glass down and walked over to his next targets. What did they think him as? A prostitute? He shivered at the sight of the ladies at the stairs beckoning him towards them in what was probably supposed to be an attractive and seductive move. Rearranging his facial muscles once again, Ichigo dove into the battlefield.

Renji watched as his friend smiled gentlemanly at the gaggle of girls and made them swoon. "You know, Rukia, I suppose we should be grateful he doesn't do this more often."

Large lavender eyes followed a hand that Ichigo brought up for a brief kiss. She hummed. "I agree. We would have half of Seireitei swooning to their knees."

Renji watched as Ichigo drifted over to his next target, leaving his previous victims mesmerized and hearts laden with longing and admiration. One girl even fell back to the wall for support, knees too weak to hold up her body. "And the other half rendered unconcious."

The two conspirators looked at each other and raised their glasses to each other.

"To friendship, flirts, and aristocracy," Renji said.

"To love, deciet, and facades," Rukia amended.

The glasses clinked and they both drank to their toasts with a satisfied grin.

* * *

><p>"That's him right there. Oh, isn't he simply divine?"<p>

"Oh my, he certainly is a handsome one. And that hair? So exotic."

"No, silly. I'm looking at the pale one next to him. His green eyes are absolutely captivating."

"You can have him. I'm waiting for his handsome friend to come my way."

"Oh, they both look so lovely. Like fallen angels!"

Grimmjow snorted at that. Fallen angels? That remark could not have possibly been farther off from the truth. But nonetheless, it was always amusing to see how humans were so easily distracted by the outer layers.

Leaning against a marble pillar, he expertly ignored the admiring looks and not-so-subtle whispers being sent his way. At his side, Ulquiorra was standing with his arms crossed. Both exhaled a breath of frustration.

"Any idea when we can get out of here?"

Ulquiorra's lips curled in the slightest of frowns. "Most likely when that idiot finally gives up on seducing another victim."

"So..."

"Meaning this could take the whole night."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, preparing himself for a long night of boredom and unwanted attention. "Lovely."

From the crowds of well-dressed people, Nnoitra towered over them easily. Height tended to be an advantage when trying to angrily storm away and needed people to get the heck out of your way. "The nerve of some people," Nnoitra muttered as he returned to the sides of his companions.

The bluenette raised an eyebrow. Well, this was certainly earlier than he had expected but he wasn't complaining. "Done already?"

"No one even looks my way," Nnoitra scowled. "Some bastard's taking all the attention away from me!"

"I'm sure that's the reason," Ulquiorra replied dryly. "Well then, if that's all I suppose we should get going now," he said as he straightened his black velvet coat.

"What? Of course not, we're going to teach that bastard a lesson!"

Grimmjow scoffed. "Like hell am I going to help you with your petty revenge. And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"

Ulquiorra nodded wordlessly. It was almost disturbing how much he agreed with the bluenette today.

"Tch, some friends you lot happen to be," Nnoitra glared at them through the mask jauntily pulled over one eye. "Some green, spoiled brat is practically insulting your best friend and you won't even defend my honor."

"Pray tell, since when were we friends?"

"You heartless bastards," Nnoitra flipped them off. "And to think that seeing as how we are all bound to serve-"

Ulquiorra swiftly gagged the man with a random appetizer from the table nearby and grabbed at the man's collar.

"I already knew that you are an idiot but surely even you could not forget the laws?" The shorter man said quietly as he tightened his grip on Nnoitra's collar. "Surely you would not forget the consequences involved in breaking said laws?"

Nnoitra choked and swallowed the fancy pastry. "I didn't say anything so could you calm the heck down?" He glared at the shorter man.

"Alright, both of you, stop this," Grimmjow said. He could not get over how strange it felt to be the one holding back others, rather than the one struggling from being held back. "You're making a scene."

The men released each other and Ulquiorra straightened his lapels.

"Aw, great. The brat's gone," Nnoitra scowled.

"Good. Maybe we can finally leave now."

Suddenly the lights dimmed and a different tune started. People stepped out of the sidelines and into the center, all adorned with masks.

"Masks, huh," Ulquiorra said unamusedly. "Charming." Lady Yoruichi always did love going above and beyond.

Nnoitra grinned and pulled his mask down over his eyes. "Interesting."

An unfamiliar lone figure in white caught Grimmjow's eye. In the low lighting of the ballroom, he practically glowed as he slipped between the shadows gracefully, the lithe figure almost dancing between the others.

An intense blue gaze traced the path of the stranger in white to the balcony. "I'll say."

His companions followed his trail of sight. Ulquiorra sighed while Nnoitra grinned smugly. "Someone catch your eye?"

The bluenette smirked and set down his glass. "Maybe..." He put on a white mask and headed towards the balcony, with curiosity and intrigue burning in his mind.

And here Grimmjow had been thinking there was nothing left in Seireitei that could possibly intrigue him.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>

Wow! It only took me three months for an update, this time! Hehe, sorry. I have an outline of the whole story, I just... tend to... stray. And go much deeper into parts that I had expected to breeze by.


	3. September Stages

**CHAPTER 2:**

_'This is so awfullllllllllll.'_

Ichigo groaned and buried his face in his arms, his whole body supported by the stone railing of the balcony. He wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since he arrived at this wretched party but dear Kami, it felt like an eternity on eons had passed. Everywhere he turned, the people were some hybrid of arrogant, shallow, air-headed, and simpering. And he actually had to pretend to be interested in their meaningless chatter. He was constantly reminded of why he had decided to drop out of society when he was fourteen years old. Thank goodness his old man knew better than to make him reconsider.

_'I don't know how much more of this utter nonsense I can handle. I wasn't made to be friendly! And to think that Rukia and Renji have the audacity to make me flounder about seducing and flirting left and right, as if I was some sort of harlot,'_ he scowled at the thought of his friends- no, _so-called_ friends- laughing it up at the expense of his pride and reputation being damaged beyond repair. _'Those idiots better be grateful that we're friends. I don't know what I did in my past life that required me to owe them this.'_

Thank the heavenly deities that Yoruichi had the idea to hold a masked ball, and that Rukia specifically asked the town tailor to fashion two outfits for him: one black and one white. Ishida huffed and complained but he did it anyway. _'Good old Uryuu, still as irritating as always.'_ But hey, he always got the job done. And Ichigo had to admit, Uryuu had done an outstanding job.

His original outfit consisted of a black velvet coat with silver buttons over a dark gray silk cravat and a well tailored gray vest, white button-up with sleeves tucked into a short pair of gloves, and black trousers that went with a pair of black leather shoes. This one was almost an exact replica of the other ensemble, only white, trimmed in gold, along with a pair of boots, longer gloves, and no coat. The black ensemble was made of a stiffer fabric, while the white one was lighter and wrapped about his body gently. The difference it made was the difference between a young noble of proper standing, and an almost mythical enigma of a boy.

When everyone put their masks on, Ichigo almost cried in relief. Now that he was wearing a different ensemble AND a matching white mask, no one would be able to find him. Or as he liked to think of it: pester him. He even covered his hair with a white powder to conceal his trademark orange spikes. And just to be safe, he put in a pair of contacts Baron Urahara had developed. _'Note to self: ask Hat and Clogs for specifics for development.'_)

Rukia and Renji laughed, saying he was being melodramatic, but if Ichigo wasn't able to get away even for a moment, he would die. And no, he was not being melodramatic.

Sighing, the orange-head idly traced circles on the stone surface with a finger. They could call him a recluse all they wanted, but he missed his tools and inventions. Hell, he was proud of his solitude! Especially if that meant that he could escape this overdressed and overly-made up crowd of "high society aristocrats."

He snorted at that. _'High society, my arse.'_ They were just as human as the rest. Drowning themselves in luxury didn't make them any better than the rest. If anything, it made them selfish and ignorant of the poverty and suffering of those around them.

Leaning back against the cold railing, Ichigo tilted his head up and looked at the stars shining dimly against the night sky. He breathed in deeply the crisp air.

No, he wasn't going to think about that now. The night was beautiful with its silver moon and cloudless sky. He could smell Lady Yoruichi's flower gardens even from up here. The music of the party was almost delicate from behind the doors of the balcony, and not grating as it had been when he was forced to dance to it. He was alone now and he could finally, FINALLY just breathe.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

_'God damn it.'_

Scowling, he stood up and faced the intruder on his momentary sanctuary.

* * *

><p>After making his way to the balcony, Grimmjow watched the figure in white for a while. The person was just leaning against the railing of the balcony and scowling deeply. Every once in a while he would sigh. The bluenette waited patiently, a hunter at his element, and took the oppurtunity to study his target's behaviour carefully. When he seemed to be a better mood, Grimmjow took it as his cue to make his move.<p>

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" He said as he stepped out to the balcony.

Almost immediately, the boyish man jumped in alarm and scowled at him. "Peaceful too. At least, until you walked in."

Oh, this one had attitude. Grimmjow smirked, blue eyes taking in the appearance of his new interest. The youth was somewhat shorter than Grimmjow by a bit, with a lithe frame. The glow of the moonlight made his skin look an ethereal silver. His hair was white but he was obviously still in in his youth- some might even call him a boy.

"Peace, huh?" Grimmjow sidled up to the white-haired youth and leaned on the railing too. He whispered into the boy's ear, "Don't you think it's nice to have a bit of excitement in life now and then?"

The youth turned his head to face Grimmjow so they were only an inch away. This, and the unamused expression in those startling eyes, surprised the bluenette.

"Really now? Did you honestly think that would work?" He snorted. "No, that was a stupid question. You must have, considering you had the lack of tact to use that."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, "Lack of tact, huh?" He swiftly pecked the fiery youth on his lips. "It worked better than I had expected," he grinned.

Almost immediately heat flushed from the youth's cheeks, Grimmjow was close enough to feel it, and turned crimson. The bluenette decided that this was a delectable color on the boy.

* * *

><p>"Y-you-ugh! " Ichigo stepped back and wiped his lips of any trace of that blue-haired hellion.<p>

The awful man grinned amusedly (_'How dare he!'_), and said, "That's a lovely color on you. Makes one just want to eat you up," and he licked his lips sensually.

_'No, no, no, stop! I did NOT just think he was sensual. Don't fall for his heathen charm, Ichigo! Stand firm!'_

"I'd watch what I put into my mouth if I were you- you never know, it might not suit your tastes," he said scathingly.

The insufferable blue-haired flirt chuckled so condescendingly that Ichigo almost punched him. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that. When I see something I like, I take it. And I _always _enjoy it."

"Well maybe some things, or _people_, aren't yours to take."

"Or _maybe_," he mimicked, "they just don't know who they belong to?"

"I don't belong to anyone, least of all some shameless flirt like you!"

"But you would like to, wouldn't you?"

That was it. Ichigo swung his fist into the man's jaw and kicked him halfway across the balcony where he stumbled back. The man did not appeared injured, just stunned, but that was good enough.

Ichigo leaned down to the bluenette's eye-level and glared at him. "Never speak to me like that again, or I will personally make sure that you will never be able to again."

Shockingly blue eyes blinked slowly before the man recovered with sly grin. "Is that a threat," he murmured as he brushed Ichigo's chin with his hand, "or a promise?"

Slapping the offensive hand away, Ichigo scoffed and turned on his heels. On his back into the ball, he called out, "For you? A death sentence."

* * *

><p>Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow as he took in Grimmjow's rumpled attire. Nnoitra whistled. "You had balcony sex? I thought you decided to stop doing that after you almost fell over the railing that time."<p>

The bluenette shook his head, his expression more pleased than the cat that had caught the canary _and _the rest of its family. "Even better than sex."

"You have something that you value more?" Ulquiorra scoffed and crossed his pale arms over a white clad chest. "Now this ought to be something interesting."

"Oh, he sure is 'interesting' alright," Grimmjow chuckled. His eyes searched for the fiery youth in white from before and locked in on him like a hawk on its prey. "There he is," he gesturedly subtly at a corner where the boy was standing with a glass of wine. "I pulled my usual charms but for naught. He punched me square in the jaw."

Nnoitra and Ulquiorra exchanged a look. Ulquiorra sighed and Nnoitra clapped the bluenette on the back. "Well, Grimmy, I never thought you were interested in that sort of play but hey, if it makes you happy, I suppose there is nothing to say."

Grimmjow slapped the gangly man on the back of the head (which was not as easy as it seemed). "Idiot. That wasn't what I meant!"

"Well, good grief, man! Make yourself clear next time," Nnoitra said as he rubbed the back of his head with a one-eyed scowl. "But shame on you. The lad's pretty, but he hardly looks like he is capable of inflicting _that _upon your face," he said, pointing at the bruise on Grimmjow's face which was already turning purple on the edges.

"This?" Grimmjow snorted. "No worries. You of all should know it shall be gone soon enough."

"After all the brawls you two brutes have been in, I am sure you would," Ulquiorra replied coolly. "And keep a watch on your victim; it appears you aren't the only one interested in him tonight."

Grimmjow's head snapped to the direction of the intriguing youth and saw what appeared to be an ideal situation. If possible, his grin grew even greater, until it was downright predatory. "Well, well, well. I do believe a hero is needed to save the fair maiden." He chuckled and sauntered towards the youth.

"Hero?" Nnoitra laughed. "He's more like the dragon, ready to devour the princess."

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes but said nothing. Uncouth as he thought his blue-haired companion to be, he couldn't deny that what Grimmjow wanted, Grimmjow always got.

* * *

><p>"I, uh, really. No thank you, sir, I'm fine."<p>

"No, truly. I insist."

"_I_ insist. Thank you for the... generous offer," he cleared his throat, "but I assure you, I have no need for company right now."

"Nonsense. What's a beautiful young man like you doing trying to hide in the shadows?" The tall brunette held fast to Ichigo's hand. "Worry not; I don't bite. Unless you want me to, of course," the man winked.

Ichigo cringed. Not only was the man thoroughly inebriated, but he was also still as persistent as he was when he was sober. Though knowing Sir Kyouraku, those moments were few and far between. Oh yes, Ichigo knew without it doubt that it was him. If the familiar drunken drawl wasn't enough of an indicator, the gaudy pink mask and matching floral cape was a dead giveaway.

"Really, I don't think that either one of us should be dancing right now," Ichigo said as he unsuccessfully tried to get his arm back. Sure, it must have been hard to recognize him with all the white clothes and contacts but he knew Kyouraku must have been downing the wine glasses like there was no tomorrow if he was actually flirting with one of his oldest friends' son.

Kyouraku squinted under his slightly skewed mask. "You know, there's something quite familiar about you. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you remind me of someone." Laughing, he brushed off his own questions. "No, no, if I had seen someone with eyes like yours before, I would remember. Now come; dance with me!"

"Honestly, I don't-"

"Sir Kyouraku?" A tall, unmistakeably blue-haired man came up to the two with a grin far too familiar for Ichigo's liking. "I do believe your wife, Madame Nanao, has been looking for you. She said something about ceaseless flirting and burning your wine cellar?"

The brunette's face paled considerably. "Oh dear," he chuckled nervously, eyes darting around, "well, it was delightful meeting you, young man, but I have to run now." He bowed and kissed Ichigo lightly by the hand. "Enjoy yourselves," he called as he quickly lost himself among the dancing couples.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You again?"

The blue-haired man chuckled, the sound grating on Ichigo's nerves. "What can I say? I simply can't get enough of your charming sense of humor."

"Really? Then would you like a reminder?" Ichigo said as he clenched his fists.

"As much as I know you would love to get your hands on me again," the bluenette smirked when Ichigo scowled, "A dance was more of what I had in mind."

"Dance? With you? Oh my, what ever shall I do? I could just _die _from the joy," Ichigo rolled his eyes.

The man arched a single blue eyebrow. "Is that any way to talk to someone who just saved you from Kyouraku's clutches?"

Ichigo sniffed, folding his gloved arms over his chest. "I could have handled him on my own."

He shrugged. "If you insist," he said, turning his head. "Sir Kyouraku! I was just joking, there is no-"

"Damn it, what is wrong with you! What do you want from me?"

"A dance," the man said simply. "One dance is all I ask of you."

"All that just for a dance? Dance with someone else! Someone who _doesn't_ wish to injure you."

"Now where is the fun in that?" Humor glinted in the man's eyes and he held out one hand to Ichigo. "One dance. That is all. Though I can not promise that you won't be wanting more."

"Fine," Ichigo said with gritted teeth as he extended his hand towards the man. "One dance. And I never see you again for the rest of the night. And preferably, for the rest of my life."

The man laughed and put his other hand on Ichigo's waist. "We shall see if I can not change your mind by the end of this dance."

"I wouldn't be too sure if I were you," Ichigo smirked. "I happen to be rather stubborn."

"Then it's lucky that I happen to like a challenge."

Almost right on cue, the music changed to a much slower song and Ichigo had to wonder if he had done something for the deities to hate him so much. The violinists struck their bows to a graceful waltz and Ichigo had no choice but to follow along. The blue-haired man said something but Ichigo only heard a mumble.

"What was that? I missed it."

"I said, 'you have rather interesting eyes.'"

_'My eyes? What's so interesting about brown eyes?' _Ichigo blinked. _'Oh, that's right, the contacts!' _They were so comfortable, he had almost forgotten. Yellow irises and black scleras. He supposed it was a rather strange combination. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I've just never seen anything quite like them before."

Ichigo looked at the man's blue hair, barely tamed like wild fire, and snorted. "Speak for yourself."

The man smirked. "There is no shame in being different. All I meant was that your eyes are stunning."

_'Damn it, why am I blushing? These aren't even my real eyes! Get a hold of yourself, Ichigo!' _

Outwardly he maintained his disdainful poker face. "Hmph. Well, I suppose yours aren't half-bad either." And really, that wasn't a lie. The man had incredibly intense blue eyes. They were dancing close enough to each other for Ichigo to see an entire palette of blue in them, under the white mask. There were enough shades to make an artist jealous.

The man grinned. "Why, a compliment? This certainly is progress."

"Don't let it get to your head. Lord knows you have enough confidence as it is," he said, fighting off a smile.

"A smile too? Either I truly am lucky tonight, or you must like me," the bluenette said smugly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes but he couldn't stop smiling anyway, "If a smile means that I fancy you, then you must be deprived of attention."

"Oh, I get attention," the man said as they stepped gracefully to the song, "but only the attention of certain people mean anything to me."

"Well, well. Popular, aren't you?"

The bluenette chuckled. "Not popular enough, judging by your defenses."

"Excuse me if I don't exactly trust people who come out of nowhere, disturb my peace, and harrass me persistently for an entire night."

"Again with the whole 'peace' ordeal," he said, spinning Ichigo and then coming back together. "For someone who values peace so much, you sure are quick to use violence."

"Only for you," Ichigo said sarcastically.

"Why I am honored to be the recipient of such an honor."

Ichigo laughed, "You are most welcome. I would be happy to punch you again any time."

"You are too kind," he said in mock solemnity, and Ichigo had to laugh again. "Though I think I like it better when you laugh, as compared to when you are throwing punches."

He gasped, "No! And here I thought you liked me for my violence," Ichigo said with a teasing grin.

The bluenette laughed. "Well, when you put it that way, it certainly is difficult to make a choice."

"Sorry, but it's part of the whole," Ichigo shrugged as they pulled apart and then closed the gap again.

"Then I have no choice but to take the whole package, do I?" The blue-eyed man murmured into his ear. He bowed and kissed Ichigo's hand, surprising Ichigo who hadn't even noticed the song end.

Ichigo almost kicked himself. He couldn't believe he had actually let his guard down! And even worse, the man was right about what he said earlier; Ichigo _did_ want to talk to him some more.

_'Stupid idiot! I _told _you to not to and you did anyway! Moron!'_

_'Stop yelling at me, damn it! You're part of my brain too! Why didn't you stop us!'_

_'... You raise an excellent point.'_

"Before I leave your sight for the rest of the night, as you had requested, do you have a name I can call you, or shall I just call you Cranky?"

"You better not have been calling me that in your head this entire time," Ichigo warned. "Call me... Shiro."

The bluenette raised a blue eyebrow. "Shiro? Very original."

"Shut up, I was- mphf!" Ichigo went silent and closed his eyes as the man kissed him. Their lips met and it was like everything he had always heard about from those ridiculous love novels that Yuzu went on and on about.

When he let go, he had a glint in those sickeningly pretty blue eyes. "Nice to meet you, Shiro. Farewell..."

* * *

><p><em>'...For now,' <em>Grimmjow thought with an smile, as he disappeared among the people.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

Ah, it is too fun writing flirty scenes. Grimmjow, that charmer. Oh, Ichigo, I'd love to see you try to resist Grimmjow's heathen charm. It's impossible. Here's a question to ponder: if anyone other than Grimmjow tried that in the real world (in OUR world) on you, would it work?

One of my teachers was too lazy to call people by their actual names and memorize them, so he just made up new names for everyone everyone other class. Mine were: Cranky, Crazy, Angry, and (my favorite) Serial Killer. Anyhow, loving the reviews that y'all leave, keep it coming, it makes me feel like I am not sucking at this. (PS. Hollow Ichigo-Ichigo, cannabalism is frowned upon in most societies but somehow, I still feel touched.) And I'm making progress! It's only been 2 months, this time!


	4. October Overture

**CHAPTER 3:**

"Explain to me why," Renji yawned, "you dragged me here at the ungodly hours of ten in the morning, to visit our beloved spiky haired menace?"

"_Because_," Rukia hissed, "I am worried for him. Something just isn't right. We arrived two hours ago and Ichigo still hasn't noticed us. Usually, he throws us out right away!"

Renji hummed, "He can't possibly still be worried about your engagement. Your brother made it quite clear that you shan't be married to him." Oh yes, Byakuya had made it very clear that his sister would not be wed to the likes of a flirt like Ichigo. So clear that he was wary of Rukia being such close friends with the orange-haired youth.

"Could it be that the ball and the people were too much for him? That he has finally lost it?" Rukia said worriedly.

"Reasonable enough, but I still have my doubts. He was fine until halfway through the ball."

"Yes, that is true. To be exact, his odd behavior started after the masks were worn." The petite dark-haired girl contemplated what may have caused her friend's strange behavior. Ichigo had disappeared somewhere soon after and reappeared, dazed and drifting on the middle of the dance floor. Since then, he had been behaving like...

Like some lovesick puppy.

Rukia's brow was furrowed. "Renji, do you think that, oh, maybe..."

Renji looked at her, understanding the look in her eyes. "What, him?" The red-head laughed. "For anyone else it might be possible, but this is Ichigo we are speaking of. Ichigo Kurosaki: reluctant heir, self-imposed recluse and ill-tempered inventor-disciple of Baron Urahara." Almost right on cue, the red-head dodged as a flying projectile compass just happened to come close to his head.

"No, it could happen. What sort of healthy, normal nineteen year old has never fallen in love?"

"That kind," Renji said, pointing at the orange-haired inventor, who was slumped over his desk with the side of his head against the table, playing with a scrap of metal.

Rukia huffed. So what if Ichigo was a bit... antisocial? He was a wonderful person, even with his quirks. Actually, if one really tried to know the orange-head, they would come to understand his strange tendencies. If anything, Rukia was proud of Ichigo. For all of Urahara's whims, the baron was remarkably intelligent and he didn't just share that knowledge with anyone. With their creativity and mechanical know-how, the two were constantly developing new gadgets and gizmos to help the local peasants. Renji may complain often, but she knew he was also proud that Ichigo was using his talents to help others.

-_BOOMMMM_-

"Ichigo?" Rukia and Renji asked worriedly. Searching futilely around the toolshed-turned-laboratory, the two waved the clouds of smoke away. "Ichigo? Are you alright?"

A cough came from the densest area of smoke. A leather gloved hand emerged from the wisps and waved away the clouds. Pushing up a pair of round goggles to rest on his head, Ichigo coughed again. And now he was sure he had swallowed some of the... whatever it was that had just exploded. "What are-" he cleared his throat with a hacking choke, "What are you two doing here?"

Renji shook his head, tsk-ing at his friend. "About time you noticed us. We have been waiting for two hours!"

Brown eyes blinked, not unlike an owl's, before comprehension dawned. "Oh. Uh, yes, I apologize."

"_'I apologize'_?" Rukia laughed somewhat hysterically. "I knew it. I knew it! What the heck is wrong with you? Did you eat something strange? Did one of your explosions embed shrapnel in your moody, genius brain? What is wrong with you!"

"I- nothing!" he sputtered indignantly, "Nothing is wrong with me!"

A scoff came from Renji's direction. "Ichigo, please. You are a terrible liar. Lately, your moods have been more fickle than Matsumoto's. You can't possibly expect us not to suspect anything."

"Tell us what is going on! Right now."

As if right on cue, a knock rang from outside the door. "Ichi-nii? Is it safe to come in?" The Kurosaki family knew better by now than to enter Ichigo's lab without ensuring their safety first. With all the fire, chemicals, machinery, and explosives, not doing so would be putting their lives in peril. Isshin would be the first to testify to that.

"Come in, Yuzu," Ichigo said with relief. The girl had impeccable timing.

The blonde haired girl entered and smiled at her brother's friends. "Hello again, Rukia, Renji. Would you like some tea?" With their wealth and power, they could afford maids and servants but Yuzu preferred to do things herself. It was a great deal more work than necessary for a blossoming young lady such as herself but everyone who entered their manor could seee it added a touch of hospitality and warmth to the large estate.

"No, thank you," they declined politely.

Yuzu noticed her brother sulking in the corner of his lab, for once not toiling away over some new creation. "Ichi-nii? What is the matter?"

"What? Oh, nothing," Ichigo said with a plastered smile. Really? Even Yuzu noticed? Had he really been so obviously with his scattered mind? "Just tired, is all." And really, that wasn't even a lie. He couldn't sleep well because that annoyingly charming blue-haired man kept infiltrating his mind. It didn't help that he knew nothing about the man, not his name nor his face. That blue hair could very well be a wig for all he knew. That just spurred his curiosity and made him wonder all the more.

Ichigo had always known he had no interest in females but he had never had such a strong reaction to anyone before. He had just assumed he would never be attracted to anyone. But now that he had a taste of desire, there was no turning back. Every time Ichigo tried to think of something else, minutes later he would find his thoughts straying to the masked man again. It was like his thoughts were a wild horse and he couldn't rein them in because it was chasing after a field of blue, rather than listening to him.

_'Stupid idiot._' He didn't know who to aim that at: the man or himself.

Yuzu frowned, knowing that wasn't all there was to the story but let it go. "Maybe this will cheer you up then," she said, placing an envelope on his desk. "It came in by pigeon just now. You ought to consider yourself lucky I got to it before Karin did. She has been wanting to test out that laser watch for a while now."

Ichigo chuckled. His other sister had been complaining how inconvenient it was to not be able to carry weapons because she was a lady. Truly, resistance against the norm ran in the family. "Glad to know she likes her birthday present. And you?" For the cheerier twin, he gave her a lion doll with a voice box hidden inside. He wasn't sure if Yuzu would like it, now that she was fifteen years old, and a young lady.

She beamed, "I adore it! Thank you, Ichi-nii!" The blonde girl gave her brother a hug. "I have to make dinner now but the pigeon is still here. I put it inside a cage in your room. Speaking of which, you should take the time to actually spend time in there and catch up on some sleep."

The orange-haired youth waved her off and picked up the envelope. He had just caught a whiff of the scented paper when he felt two people literally breathing down his neck.

"Sooooooooooo," Renji drawled, "who is it from?"

Rukia grinned slyly, nudging him at his side. "A love letter perhaps?"

Ichigo scowled and crossed his arms over the envelope protectively. "How am I to know? I clearly did not open it yet!"

"Well? What are you waiting for? Open it!"

"I will open it when I want to open it! Don't you tell me what to do!"

The short dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. "You are just as curious as I am so I see no reason for the sudden mystery. You simply fear finding out who the sender is. I see skinned chickens with more spleen than you."

_'That could not be farther from the truth,_' Ichigo told himself. That brief whiff made him strongly suspect who it was. It wasn't finding out who it was that he was afraid of- it was finding out who it wasn't.

Renji sighed, "Come now, you two, break it up. Leave him be, Rukia. A man needs his privacy sometimes."

"Are you implying that I do not respect privacy? I'll have you know that I greatly respect privacy. When I found your diary, I only read the most recent entries," she said apalled. "Speaking of which, 'insufferable' has two f's."

The red-head face-palmed as the he led her out the door, the sound of their bickering eventually fading away.

Ichigo mentally thanked his tattooed friend, knowing that Rukia would have never left if it had been up to her. And the orange-head would have given in eventually because she was right (something that he never liked to admit, no matter how often it was true), he was dying to open it.

Lifting the envelope by the corners, Ichigo inhaled deeply that all-too familiar scent. His heart rate sped up just a little at the scent that was part musky, part minty scent, and completely alluring. Gently, he ran his fingers over the imprint on the sealed wax, taking note that it was not of an insignia of any company or family that the aristocrat knew of_. 'Note to self, must conduct more research.'_ Sliding a thin blade under the paper, Ichigo pulled the contents of the envelope open.

A single white sheet of paper was all that was in there. In rough calligraphy, it said:

_Roses are red._  
><em>My hair is blue.<em>  
><em>I can't stop thinking<em>  
><em>About you.<em>

It was signed "G".

Ichigo could feel the grin spreading across his face. It was perhaps one of the worst poems he had ever read, if not the worst, yet he could not help that warm giddy feeling growing within. He wouldn't call it a letter, not exactly, but Rukia had come pretty close.

* * *

><p>Grimmjow drummed his fingers against the window sill as he waited for his pigeon to return. His poem was a bit silly and cliche but it was right to the point, which was all that mattered.<p>

"Tch."

The bluenette turned to face a sulking Nnoitra and arched an eyebrow. "What?"

Crossing his long arms and leaning against Grimmjow's bed, Nnoitra scowled. "I put all this time and effort into finding the orange-haired brat from the ball so that we could avenge me. Instead, you, Grimmjow dearest, are being a sodding prat."

"I never said that I would avenge you."

"You implied it! The nerve of you. You dare call yourself a friend? After misleading me to believe you were on my side? I throw myself into finding the identity of the green-horn, only to discover that the punk is the same person as your precious _Shiro_," he said with distaste, "and that I have lost my ally in the war against the human boy."

"You're calling this a war now? Truly?"

"NO ONE CROSSES NNOITRA JIRUGA!"

Grimmjow just rolled his eyes.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me!" Nnoitra crossed the room and grabbed the quill his friend had been using. "Look at this! Look at you! Penning flowery words and poems like some love-sick idiot." He gagged.

With a sigh, Grimmjow dismissed his friend's criticism. "He is just another conquest. This one is simply proving to be more of a challenge than the rest, but that will only make my victory sweeter." Blue eyes gazed out over the horizon. _'Ichigo Kurosaki, huh_,' he thought as he tuned out the complaining of his unnaturally long friend.

It turned out, that "Shiro" was actually the heir to the earlship of Isshin Kurosaki but refused to stick to the traditional formalities and lifestyle of one of his status. Ever since the age of fourteen, his appearance in social events had been rare. He lived with his father, Isshin Kurosaki who was knighted many years ago, and his younger twin sisters. The rest of his family behaved similarly, especially after the death of Lady Masaki, Isshin's wife. It was said that the boy became the disciple of the strange but incredibly influential Baron Urahara, an old friend of Isshin. Nowadays, the Kurosaki heir was holed up in his manor, creating all sorts of insane machines, and his friends consisted of a Renji Abarai, knighted a couple years ago and currently working for Lord Kuchiki, and Rukia Kuchiki, the sister of said Lord Byakuya Kuchiki. It was assumed that the young Kuchiki lady and Ichigo were arranging a marriage but after the ball, that rumor had been put to death.

Since the boy was more or less out of the rumor mill, the information they could gather on him was insufficient. So Grimmjow had resorted to spying. For one as... gifted as Grimmjow, finding where "Shiro" lived was simple enough so the bluenette tracked him. The boy lived in the Kurosaki manor, located in between Seireitei and a small town called Karakura.

To say that he was not disappointed would be the understatement of a lifetime. Grimmjow had managed to catch the Kurosaki boy as he was leaving his estate to go into town. Shiro's hair had been bright white; Ichigo's was a blazing sunset orange. Shiro's eyes had been like gold inlaid in onyx; Ichigo's was a brown the shade of sun-warmed wood in the summer. Shiro had skin that appeared silvery pale; Ichigo's was a golden flush of life. Even the way the two dressed was different. Shiro had been fully clad in finely tailored dress clothes of the latest fashion, while Ichigo donned a more casual ensemble of a white collared button up shirt and brown trousers loosely tucked into a pair of gray riding boots that matched a pair of gray leather gloves. A long blue scarf looped around his neck finished the outfit. The two looked radically different, literally night and day, but one look at him and Grimmjow could tell it was the same person he had danced with at the ball. The way in which he carried himself, confident and graceful with a straight back and head held high, was unmistakable.

He watched the orange-haired youth mount a black horse that was obviously his own, and followed him as Ichigo rode into town. He had dismounted and instead led his horse by the reins as they entered Karakura. As the Kurosaki boy made his way through the small town, it was palpable to the bluenette that Ichigo Kurosaki was not as anti-social as rumored to be. Ichigo had been stopped by many of the villagers, for no other purpose than to invite him and his family to dinner to thank him for some invention he had made for them. In particular, he seemed closest to the baker (a well-endowed, chirpy orange-haired girl), the tailor (a haughty thin youth with a monocle), and the blacksmith (a large, quiet young man with hair in his eyes).

Grimmjow understood now; the aristocrats thought Ichigo was a recluse because he never played with their crowd but in fact, the boy had chosen another crowd, one that loved him dearly.

Gray wings fluttered and landed near his hand. The bluenette pulled the piece of paper from the bird's leg. A rough piece of paper, obviously ripped from something more important, and quickly scrawled script replied:

_Yoruichi's roses were white._  
><em>Your bruise was also blue.<em>  
><em>Is that really<em>  
><em>The best you can do?<em>

_- Shiro_

Blue eyes scanned over the text again, and then one more time before a manic grin broke across his face. Raucous laughter rumbled in his chest, long and hard and Grimmjow wiped a tear from his eye. Grabbing another piece of paper, he penned his reply and tied it to the pigeon, forgoing the envelope.

The pigeon flew away and Grimmjow closed his eyes. He could see the brown-eyed ginger waiting by his lab room with the window open. Ichigo was sitting by a desk covered in apparatus and machinery with a pair of gloves resting near his drumming fingers. A pair of goggles rested on top of that brilliantly tangerine hair and the boy was slumped over his desk. The fringe of his spikes brushed his impatiently narrowed eyes and his frown looked more like a pout. He blew his spikes up and Grimmjow just had to grin at the childlike habit.

Eagerly awaiting his next reply, Grimmjow chuckled. He knew he had chosen a good one.

* * *

><p>Locking his bedroom door, Ichigo dug out his collection of letters from a secret compartment he installed behind his wardrobe. He laid them out over his bed, quite pleased that after a few weeks of pigeon mail, he had more than enough to cover every inch of his royal blue embroidered silk quilt. Inhaling deeply, he sighed. He loved that minty, musky scent the papers would exude. He ran his fingers on top of them fondly, a select few catching his eye. He could still remember the replies he wrote to some of them, but by now he had lost track of all the letters they had sent each other.<p>

_I often hear, "Pictures speak_  
><em>A thousand words"<em>  
><em>But neither is art my forte,<em>  
><em>I shall continue with words.<em>

_So I must admit,_  
><em>My poetry is inferior.<em>  
><em>But I hope you can see<em>  
><em>Beyond the exterior.<em>

_-G._

Ichigo laughed to himself, having no fear of being overheard in the privacy of his own room. He had to admit that even he could see that he hasn't felt so happy in ages.

His family and friends had been wondering what had caused his good mood lately. Rukia was more than suspicious but Renji was able to restrain her. Isshin had been confused, but then he lit up like he had invented steamboats. Clapping him heartily on the back with a grin, Isshin said, "Oh, the springtime of youth! Fear not, my firstborn, your father supports your young love fully and whole heartedly! Pursue your primal instincts of lust and court this fair lady with manly valor! Make me proud, young man!"

Ichigo thought it best to say nothing and deliver a roundhouse kick to his idiot father's face. Actions spoke louder than words, afterall.

_Actions, words, or art,_  
><em>Should one read your mind,<em>  
><em>I fear for their sanity<em>  
><em>at what they might find.<em>

_Confidence speaks for you._  
><em>If that counted for any,<em>  
><em>You need not rely on charm-<em>  
><em>Your ego defeats many.<em>

_-Shiro._

_And here I thought you liked_  
><em>Me and my charming ego.<em>  
><em>I cannot help it;<em>  
><em>The words just flow.<em>

_I mean you no offense._  
><em>My bark does not exceed my bite.<em>  
><em>One with pride needs something<em>  
><em>To be proud of, right?<em>

_-G._

How could just a few simple words to make him so happy? Both he and G admitted that writing poetry (especially this sort of frivolous, flirty rhyming) was ridiculous and trite, yet both had continued their silly little game. At times, Ichigo would catch himself smiling and then he would immediately go back to his natural scowl, berating himself for behaving so childishly. But then the pigeon would reappear with a reply from G, and suddenly the immaturity of the situation didn't seem to matter anymore.

_No offense taken._  
><em>Your point is valid and fair.<em>  
><em>At least it would be,<em>  
><em>If you truly had merits there.<em>

_-Shiro._

_Are my merits so few,_  
><em>Something I need to prove?<em>  
><em>Merit number one: honesty.<em>  
><em>My words hold the truth.<em>

_Some call it assertive,_  
><em>Sometimes rude, crude, or lewd.<em>  
><em>But I am who I am.<em>  
><em>No lies to elude.<em>

_-G._

How was it possible that G could convey so much of his personality in just a few lines of sappy poetry? All the sarcasm, arrogance, humor, and wit that he had experienced that night at the ball were molded perfectly into words. Reading the letters made him feel like he was actually in the room and speaking with G.

_Honesty I can appreciate,_  
><em>Though trust is something to be earned.<em>  
><em>You will have to wait,<em>  
><em>And about you I should learn.<em>

_-Shiro._

The two of them had shared a fair amount about themselves through their letters. It was so much easier for Ichigo to say what he wanted when he knew he would not be judged for it. The permanance of the ink on paper inspired an understanding that these words were not to be taken lightly. Seeing the words being laid out in black and white somehow made their connection feel more concrete. Reading each others' replies felt like they were being entrusted with a secret.

How was it possible that Ichigo and G knew nothing about each other, yet they knew everything about each other? How was it possible that this man, this total stranger, understood him like no one ever had? How was it that this nameless, faceless enigma inspired more trust than Ichigo had ever given to anyone?

Ichigo had no idea. And he didn't even care. A scientist and inventor at heart, this one time, he would like not to question the good things in life.

Wings fluttered into his window and the pigeon rested habitually on the ledge within the open cage, routinely sticking its leg out towards Ichigo. Normally, the bird would not bother entering the cage, since it would have to leave again in a few minutes, but Ichigo tended to spoil the bird with treats and food.

_Forgive me for being forward,  
>I wish to move<br>This relationship towards._

_Though I enjoy this verbal fight,  
>I find poetry quite trite.<br>I want to meet the real you,  
>will Duchess Unohana's charity ball do?<em>

_-G._

His heart stopped for a good moment, and then sputtered back to life, beating even harder than before as if to make up for the lost time. Ichigo grabbed a pen and scrawled his reply.

_Yes.  
><em>

_-Shiro._

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<strong>

And the cheese has shown itself... Ah, I found the most amazing cheese. It is made by a family run business in Amsterdam. IT'S GOOD! And technology perplexes me so I apologize if the "sci" part of the sci-fi is weird. If there's any suggestions or advice, don't be afraid to tell me! Sorry if my poetry's sappy crappiness offends you. And wow, isn't Grimmjow just such a sleazy asshole here? Grimmjow's letters are on the left, Ichigo's in the middle.

** I honestly was about to write, "I must admit, my poetry is shit" but that's more me than Grimmjow.


	5. November Nihilism

**CHAPTER 4:**

One second his fingers were drumming nervously on his lap, the next he was jiggling his leg or fiddling with his cravat or fixing his hair or tugging at his coat or - -

"Stop that or I _will_ cut you," Rukia warned.

Ichigo scowled at her and continued his fidgeting.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "So you whine and give us your huge high-and-mighty diatribe on how shallow these events are, yet now you are back for more." The girl stopped to sniff the air theatrically. "What's this? Is this _hypocrisy_ I smell in the air? Hm? Why, yes, yes it is. With the subtle addition of I-told-you-so in there too."

Ichigo just glared at the girl from across the carriage seat. Sometimes, he wondered if he could invent a way to mentally make people internally combust. '_Or p__erhaps I could create a bomb small enough to be ingested and then remote controlled into setting off.'_ He already knew who test subject number one would be.

"Ah, the sweet smell of victory," Rukia grinned smugly. "And that would be fine and all, but would it kill you to relax for two seconds?"

"What are you so worried about anyway?" Renji asked, leaning back and resting his head on the walls of the carriage. "You are the one who wished to come this time, so why be so anxious? We did not get you all dolled up only for you to fidget away and ruin your attire. Lighten up and enjoy yourself a little."

The orange-head scoffed._ '"Dolled up" he says.'_ Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest and faced the window. He was only wearing a simple gray and blue outfit, and it was one of his own. Gray dress trousers tucked into a pair of knee length leather boots, a cobalt collared shirt and gray cravat peeking out from the fitted leather vest, and a long navy blue coat to pull it all together. _'Nothing too fancy, right?'_ Ichigo stopped his finger-drumming as a thought occurred to him. _'Unless, it looks like I am trying too hard.'_

_'No, that is impossible, he does not even know me. He won't know what I usually wear. Besides, even I know better than to show up at one of Unohana's balls in casual attire.'_

The youth relaxed. Yes, it would be fine. Everything would be fine. G and him would finally meet again, face to face, and everything would be fine.

_'Unless, he does not recognize me at all! Oh my god, how did this not occur to me earlier?!_ _H__ow is he to recognize me without the hair, or the clothes, or the contacts?'_

_'No, it shall be alright. Even if he cannot recognize me, I can most definitely recognize_ _him. How many people have blue hair, after all?'_

_'... None. Of course! _No one_ has blue hair! It must be a wig, or a dye or something! What_ _if _he_ also looks different this time? What do I do?! How am I to find him?'_

Renji watched his friend with a fair bit of amusement. Ichigo was an open book - - he could not conceal his emotions to save his life. Though over what exactly his friend was currently panicking about, the red head had no idea. He did know, however, that Rukia would find a way to figure that out, one way or another.

"Oh thank _god_," Rukia sighed as the carriage slowed to a stop. The footman opened the door, proffering a hand to the lady, which she quickly took as she escaped the carriage. They had finally reached their destination.

Ichigo and Renji followed her out and made their way into Duchess Unohana's mansion. As he looked at the other guests, Ichigo recognized a few who were his father's friends, doctors from the hospital. There were quite a few familiar faces but none was the one he wanted to see. He scanned the heads of the crowds and there was no blue hair to be found.

Cold glass slipped its way into his gloved hand and Ichigo looked up to see Renji smirking at him. "Bottoms up, old friend. Nothing like a little liquid courage to steel your nerves," the red-head said with a wink.

Ichigo hesitated. Normally he wasn't one to drink but, hell, he had been fighting a panic attack ever since he sent out the pigeon with his last reply. Scowling, the boy genius accepted the champagne flute and gulped down its contents in one fell swoop.

* * *

><p>One hour and two drinks later, Ichigo was taking a break outside the balcony.<p>

He had looked everywhere for someone even remotely resembling the charismatic man from his letters but he had no luck. At first he looked for men tall enough to match G's physique. That significantly narrowed the list.

He entertained the thought of seeking out men with blue hair but decided that would be futile. There was no way that hair could have been natural. Though it looked incredibly natural, Ichigo was sure that the right synthesized fibers or furs could have created that texture. Silk? Denatured horse hair? What about the dye? Extract of cornflower? Filtered blend of indigo?

_'Focus, Ichigo! Focus!'_

Yes, anyhow, the hair could definitely have been fake, but those eyes... Ichigo shuddered just remembering the intensity of those bright blue eyes. They were so incredibly blue that Ichigo almost thought they were contacts, just like the ones he himself had worn that night, because he had never seen anything like that before. But the way they captured his attention and held his soul for hostage, daring him to look away for even a second? No, those were no contacts. They were as real as anything Ichigo could be sure of.

So he had two things he could be absolutely sure of: G was a tall man with blue eyes.

He sighed, and stepped forward, deciding the best approach was to directly confront these men.

_"Hello," Ichigo smiled stiffly as he walked up to a man. The man turned around and smiled back at the youth. Long blonde hair, soft brown eyes. Ichigo mentally sighed as he pretended to make his way around the man._

_Ichigo plastered on another smile as he neared another suspect. Blue eyes, brown hair- this could be promising. Right as he was about to subtly hint at any previous encounters they may have had, a lovely woman sidled up to the brunette and slipped her arm around his. The auburn haired boy watched as his suspect placed a loving kiss on his wife's cheek and he slinked back to the shadows._

Now repeat this process with every person who looked even remotely like G, and one could see why Ichigo was frustrated and rapidly losing hope.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around himself as a gust of wind blew past him. Either G had been in the crowd and Ichigo had already eliminated him, or G had stood him up. Neither of the two options appealed to him. If G really was in there and refused to answer back to his hints, then either way, G was playing mind games again.

The orange-head scowled. He thought they had gotten past all the games and tricks. Clearly, G wasn't anywhere near finished. The young inventor's fists clenched. Fine. If G wanted to waste his time, then he didn't need to take this. He had had enough of this foolish behavior, and it was ridiculous that he had even gone along with it for so long. '_Fine.' _Ichigo tore off that stupid cravat around his neck. He was done with this.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Ichigo spun around. He squinted at the broad shouldered silhouette - - he could barely make out the shape of the man in the dim light of the cloud filled night, and it didn't help that the balcony was completely shrouded by shadows. There was no way of being sure it was G, but the whole scenario was far too familiar to be a coincidence.

"Peaceful too," Ichigo responded warily.

A deep-voiced chuckled rang out from the other side of the balcony. The man stepped forward and extended a hand. "Care to make a man's day?"

Ichigo looked at the proffered hand like it was a holding a meat cleaver.

"Relax. It is but a dance," the man laughed again. "Though I cannot promise that you won't be wanting more."

The young inventor's mind was running a mile a minute. That was twice now that this stranger made some reference to G. Ichigo was dying to just straight out ask him whether or not he was the same blue-haired devil messing with his mind for the past few weeks, but the more logical side to him reined him back. As any scientist worth his two cents knew, two times could be a coincidence; third time's the charm.

Ichigo took the hand and nodded, more to himself than his partner (though he didn't have to know that). "Challenge accepted."

The man pulled him into his arms and the two began dancing to the music drifting in from the ballroom. They swayed slowly to the music, as if time was a foreign concept and they owned the night.

Ichigo tried to keep his mind focused on identifying this mystery man but found himself quite distracted by the heat emanating from the large hands on his waist and the solid chest pressed against his so closely that he was positive the man could feel his heart beat. He kept his head down to hide the blush rising against his face and trained his eyes on a silver pin on the man's lapel.

"Why won't you look at me?"

Startled, Ichigo instinctively looked up and found himself trapped by the all too familiar gaze of a pair of eyes in the most mesmerizing shade of blue possible. He gasped and the youth traced a feather light hand across the man's cheekbones. An electric shock ran through him as he fell deeper and deeper into that bottomless pool of cerulean.

"G", he whispered, "It _is_ you."

The man smiled, tightening his hold around the youth. "Hello again, sweetheart."

"You..." Ichigo frowned and punched him in the jaw. "You bastard! How long have you been here?!"

He grinned. "Is the whole punching thing going to become a tradition now, or are you just so excited to see me that you cannot contain yourself?" The blue eyed man laughed at Ichigo's expression. "Alright, I apologize. I have been here since the start. You just didn't see me."

The orange-head seethed. "So you just stood by and watched me make a fool of myself trying to look for you? I hope you were amused because I sure as hell am not."

Mischief twinkled in those blue eyes and the man put his hands up defensively. "I only wanted to see how long it would take you to figure out which one I really was. I had not expected you to take so long. Again, I am sorry."

Ichigo huffed, "No, you most certainly are not. If you recognized me first, you should have just approached me first!" The brown eyed boy paused. "How _did_ you recognize me?"

"It was not easy. I did have my doubts at first, considering how different you looked from last time, _Shiro,_" he said teasingly. "But the little mannerisms you have - - the way you talk, the way you walk - - gave you away."

"Oh." Ichigo fiddled with his sleeve. "So... does it bother you how different I look?"

"Yes."

Ichigo's heart dropped.

"The way you look gets me _very_ hot and bothered."

Ichigo blinked for a few seconds until the words sank in. "You-!" He couldn't even think of an appropriate response, not when that insufferable man was grinning so smugly at him and his own face was turning more and more red by the second.

Oh, this was _definitely _the same man.

The brown eyed boy turned away with a huff. He could hardly believe that a man he barely knew was getting him so riled up. Speaking of which... "What is your name?" Ichigo demanded.

The man looked surprised. "My name?"

"Yes. I find it most irritating that I cannot attach any other name to your face other than 'G', which I presume is what your name begins with."

"Very well. My name is Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. And your's would be?"

"Ichigo Kurosaki."

The man lifted Ichigo's gloved hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, "Enchanted to meet you, Ichigo." He smiled. "Would you mind if we get out here? This party is nothing but stuffy old fools and tedious floozies. I do believe this atmosphere is bad for my health."

Ichigo snorted. "And _my_ mental well-being. Let's go."

They went back into the mansion with Grimmjow holding tight to Ichigo's hand and pulling him stealthily through the dancing and mingling crowds. They drew quite a few stares, mostly from jealous women and a few envious men, but they did not care. They snaked between people like the most delicate of dances and before they knew it, they were out the main entrance.

Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed his surroundings and started laughing. "You brought me to the _garden_? Could this be anymore cliche?"

"It just figures that this sort of thing would not work on you," Grimmjow shook his head as if frustrated, before he caught his eye and grinned. "Ichigo Kurosaki, you are indeed a difficult lady to woo."

"You are ridiculous," he declared through his laughter. Ichigo tried to catch his breath when he noticed his hand was still being held by Grimmjow. He blushed and tried to slip his hand free but the other man just tightened his grasp.

"Why don't we just stay like this for a while longer?" he said quietly.

Ichigo, too stunned to actually say anything, just nodded. His hand felt incredibly strange being enveloped by another. He was used to having his hands flying over sketches, hovering over flames and fingers tinkering over gadgets. This stillness was... different. '

_But not entirely unwelcome_,' he supposed.

Grimmjow's thumb made circles on the inside of Ichigo's wrist as the two walked hand in hand through the garden. The scent of roses, daphnes, and camellias made for a heavy perfume that wafted gently over the two with each cool autumn breeze. The sound of their footsteps were a separate rhythm to the music from the mansion that, though softened, was still within hearing range.

"So now you know that my hair and eyes from that night were fake," Ichigo said slowly, "but your hair and your eyes... are they really natural?"

"Real as can be."

Ichigo nodded, as if he had never doubted the fact. Except that he _had_, and any true scholar would not just take words at face value but rather question and confirm it until all other possibilities were crushed to the ground.

"Can I... touch it?"

Grimmjow looked surprised for a second, before his features fell into an easy smirk. "I knew it. You just cannot keep your hands off of me, can you?"

Ichigo scowled. "Oh, shut up," he said, before reaching over and running a hand through that mane of blue. The orange-head blinked in surprise. It was soft, like real hair except better. It felt more like the downy tufts of fur behind a cat's ear or a horse's throat. It was absolutely fascinating.

"So... are you content to just stand here and stroke me for the remainder of the night? Because if you are, I was somewhat hoping for a different type of stroking."

Ichigo's hand recoiled like it was burned by acid. The young man frowned. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"I think you would have more to be worried about if I _didn't_ like that."

"Oh, sure." The brown eyed boy coughed, "Pervert."

Grimmjow said something but his words went ignored. A glint of something caught the young inventor's eye and his curiosity pulled him towards it. He shoved away some of the shrubbery covering it.

"What is that?" Grimmjow peered over his shoulder and tried to get a better look. "A hoverboard?" he said skeptically.

"A broken one, at that." Ichigo pulled it out of the dirt and examined it with a practiced eye. "I wonder what it is doing here..." He started the system to turn it on. Lights flickered as the machine powered on and the engine began to run. A strange ticking noise started up just as the board floated a foot or two off the ground before crashing back to earth.

Grimmjow looked over and sighed. "It appears that I have lost your interest to a heap of metal."

Ichigo shushed him and flipped the board around. Just as he had suspected, the source of the problem was in the spokes on engine's jets.

"I sincerely hope that this is not how the rest of the night will go: you playing with your machines and me standing off at the side."

"It will only take a few minutes for me to fix it. Something must have lodged into it and caused it to crash," he mumbled to himself. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small set of tools. "Just wait until I finish. Use that legendary patience of yours."

"I am going to ignore the fact that you apparently carry around your tools everywhere because you look rather enthralling when focused like that."

"Shhh."

Grimmjow grunted but said nothing more. Ichigo snuck a peek at him and hid his amusement at the pout on the blue haired man's face, before getting back to work. He made quick work of repairing the machine and it was fixed in no time.

"There, done."

Grimmjow eyed the hoverboard suspiciously. "How does it work?"

Ichigo grinned. "I thought you would never ask." He put his tools back in his pocket and laid the craft on the floor, setting his feet in a sturdy stance before kick-starting the engine. With a quiet pur, the machine came to life and lifted itself, and Ichigo along with it, a few feet off the air until it reached about the height of Grimmjow's torso.

The blue-haired aristocrat stared at the contraption with a bit of disdain.

Ichigo crossed his arms and waited for the other to say something before he snapped under the silence. "Well?"

"What?"

"Are you getting on or not?" The board was certainly big enough for two.

"_Not._" Grimmjow shook his head. "I don't trust those things. Flying is not meant to be done that way."

Ichigo frowned. "So, you prefer airships?"

He supposed he understood the appeal. Airships were a smoother, easier ride. No work had to be done for one to enjoy themselves and ride along the winds in a lap of luxury. Meanwhile, hoverboards required constant vigilance; one wrong move, one small shift in posture could throw off the balance and send its rider careening back towards the ground. However, the freedom and the exhilaration of having nothing between him and the sky was well worth the risk. Ichigo had to admit, he was a little disappointed. He had thought Grimmjow would be a kindred spirit concerning the adrenaline of the sport, considering the man's wild and rebellious nature.

"I-" Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further, as his face set in frustration. "I can't explain it."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Do not tell me you are afraid?"

"Afraid?" Grimmjow scoffed. "I know not the meaning of the word."

"Good." He leaned back, directing the board lower towards the ground. "Hop on, then."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and stepped on. The board shifted precariously under the new weight and Ichigo adjusted his stance to regain balance. He turned his head to check Grimmjow's formation and frowned.

"Spread your legs further apart, a little more than shoulder length - yes, good. Now, bend your knees slightly. Lean forwards with your arms out to keep balance."

Ichigo nodded with approval at Grimmjow's form. "Since I am assuming you have never done this before, here are the basics," he ignored the man's scowl and continued on. "Basically, whichever direction you lean your weight towards is the direction that the board is steered towards. However, since this is your first time, I shall steer and you ought to just focus on keeping your balance."

"Who said this was my first time?" Grimmjow glared.

The orange-head looked blankly at him before smirking with a smug grin crossing his face. "Don't worry, I will be gentle with you."

Grimmjow scoffed, a retort ready at his lips when the board suddenly shot up into the air. They were rapidly ascending and in just a blink's time, they were well above the flower garden and leaving the vicinity of the mansion. The sound of music and chatter from the party dwindled into nothing as the board gained momentum, speeding them further and higher up into the night sky.

The _whoosh_ of the air rushing by tickled their hair and tousled their hair. Ichigo expertly steered the board with minute shifts in his weight and brought them flying over the city of Seireitei. As the two zoomed over the city, the brown-eyed boy swerved in the air as if he belonged up there while Grimmjow just struggled to not fall off the board.

He thought he was doing pretty well for someone who had never done this before, until the board suddenly lurched forward and Grimmjow found himself fumbling for balance. In a desperate attempt to steady himself, his hands caught onto Ichigo's waist. The younger man jumped when he felt Grimmjow's hands on him.

"Sorry, sorry," Grimmjow said, letting go quickly. He just knew he was going to get punched again, and considering how high up they were, he wasn't sure they could afford the pilot of the tiny board to get distracted or upset with him. "It was an accident, I swear."

"You-!" Ichigo blushed and sighed. "Just... hold on." He reached behind him and brought the large hands back to his waist. "We don't want you plummeting to your death now, do we?"

"I don't know," Grimmjow said warily. "Do we?"

Ichigo laughed and chose not to answer.

Grimmjow grumbled, taking the man's silence as an invitation to hold on tighter.

The orange haired genius decided that he rather liked causing the other man discomfort. It took the arrogant aristocrat down a few pegs. Grimmjow was too used to getting his way and Ichigo found that taking him out of his comfort zone was healthy for both of them. This new side of Grimmjow was a refreshing change to his usual persona.

After a half hour of hovering, Ichigo decided to give the other man a break. He circled around Seireitei's largest structure, the clock tower, before slowing to a stop right above the clock's face.**

"We have arrived, good sir."

"Why, thank you, my good man," Grimmjow teased as he stepped off the board on to the ledge.

Ichigo followed after him and shut off the hoverboard. The two climbed over the ledge and carefully seated themselves on the safety railing so as to face the view of the city sprawled out in front of them.

Grimmjow wondered why the orange-haired youth brought him here. It was beautiful, but it was also cold and a precarious location to simply relax in. He figured it had something to do with the privacy that the clock tower ensured. A lascivious smile made its way across the blue eyed man as he thought about all the possibilities for the young inventor's sudden desire for privacy. Amused and curious, Grimmjow decided to let himself be the prey instead of the predator for once, and told himself to fall back.

He waited and waited for Ichigo to make a move or start a conversation but the other man said nothing. Moments turned to seconds, to a minute, into ten, before, finally, Grimmjow snapped.

"Say something!"

Ichigo turned his head to face him, an eyebrow raised as if he was surprised. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Just say something, anything to break the silence."

"Why?"

"Because it is too quiet. I get bored."

The young inventor stared at him, long and hard, for a second before sighing. "Fine," he said. He shook his head, as if disappointed, and looked away to the city again. "People..."

"People in this city are always busy," Ichigo started. "It matters not whether they were born here nor if they moved to this city for being attracted by the life and the lights, like moths to a flame - - they all turn out the same. They seek excitement and thrill, confusing them for sources of happiness. In a city like Seireitei, it is easy to find a way to entertain yourself. Theater, art, dance, parties - - anywhere you look, there is something going on around every corner. So people chase after these so-called flames, believing that they are chasing happiness. They go fluttering from one thing to another, never having the time for anything.

"They fool themselves into thinking they are content, and when they realize that they are not, they desperately seek a new trend to occupy themselves. This can go on for the entirety of their lives and they still might not understand why they cannot find the contentment they so desperately seek. They turn to all sorts of ridiculous notions: drugs, crime, sex. They will do anything to bring themselves out of the monotony of their lives.

"People get so wrapped up in their problems and their lives that they completely miss out on anything else. Or maybe it is not that they miss it," Ichigo corrected himself, "but that they choose not to see it. While there are those whose greatest problem in life is which ball to go to and what style of gown is no longer fashionable, others are begging on the streets just so that they can live another night. How is it that people gifted with so much cannot find a way to be happy, when the starving and homeless find joy in just finding spare change on the streets?

"What the former do not see, what they are blinded to, is the simplicity of happiness. All they have to do is just slow down enough to truly appreciate one of the many things in this city. For example, the theatre. They hear the voices and the words, but they do not appreciate the emotion in the dialogue. They can see the players' movement, but they do not see the impassioned gestures of characters coming to life from within the vessel that is the actors' bodies.

"Seeing is not the same as appreciating, just as how hearing is not the same as listening. Until one can understand that, they will never learn how to truly be happy."

Ichigo finally faced Grimmjow. "Now do you understand why I brought you here?"

Grimmjow looked at the orange haired man and then returned his gaze to the view before him.

Seireitei truly was a large city. When he looked at it from up here, it seemed like it would stretch on forever, even though he knew that to be false. The horizon was broken up with buildings and bridges popping out of the ground. The sound of chatter from down below and the clip-clop of horse drawn carriages were muted by the height of the clock tower. Grimmjow looked down with amusement at the tiny people on the streets. The lit up windows of families at home or offices still at work looked like fireflies in the vast night sky. Clouds hung low, blocking the moon in wisps of gray. The cold air was crisp and clean, with a scent that signaled the arrival of winter.

He looked back at Ichigo and smiled. "I believe I am beginning to."

Ichigo smiled back at him. He reached over for the other man's hand and both watched the world go by. This time, no words were necessary.

* * *

><p>As nice as their time alone was, the two eventually had to return. The ball was almost over by the time Ichigo and Grimmjow landed at the same garden where they took off.<p>

After Grimmjow stepped off the board, Ichigo jumped off and shut the board down. He looked wistfully at the machine. It was an older model, but now that he had fixed it, it ran just fine. In fact, if he could just take it home and make a few adjustments, it could out-fly any other model. Ichigo sighed. No, he couldn't keep it. He had found it and that meant he had to return it.

Entering the mansion, Ichigo turned to the other man. "Grimmjow, I am going to find Duchess Unohana and see if she wants this back," he gestured at the board. "I shall find you later."

The blue haired man smirked. "Are you sure you do not want me going with you? I fear you may miss me too much."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Idiot," he muttered as he searched for the duchess _alone_.

He had just caught sight of the woman's signature braid when two pairs of hands apprehended him. Rukia and Renji dragged him to a secluded corner of the room.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, where did you go? Do you know how long you were missing,? Did you even stop to think about how worried we were this whole time? How could you possibly leave in the middle of the ball when _you_," Rukia jabbed him in the chest, "were the one dying to go?! And what are you doing with a hoverboard? Where could you have possibly found a hoverboard?!"

"More importantly," Renji interrupted, "who were you just talking to and why?"

The Kurosaki heir scowled and set down the hoverboard, propping it up against the wall. "Calm down, _mother_," he ignored Rukia's glare. "I returned, did I not?"

"Young man, if you even _dare_-"

Ichigo stopped her oncoming rant with his hands held up in a typical surrendering position. "I _did_ want to come here tonight but only so I could see a friend again. After I saw him, we decided that balls were boring, the people here were boring, and pretty much everything else about this was just as boring so we decided to explore. We found this in the garden so we borrowed it and took a little trip. I do not know how long I was gone, and to be honest, I do not particularly care, though I do apologize for making you two worry. I suppose I just lost track of time." He shrugged. "Not much to worry about, is there?"_  
><em>

Rukia exhaled slowly through grit teeth. "You _borrowed_ a hoverboard that you just _conveniently_ found in the garden?"

"I do believe that is what I said, so yes. Yes, I did."

She slapped him on the arm. "You stole someone's hoverboard?!"

Ichigo hissed and rubbed his arm. "Did you not just listen to my story? I _found_ it. It was broken and abandoned in the garden so I _fixed_ it. If anything, the owner should be thanking me. Good grief, woman, control yourself."

This mildly appeased the Kuchiki princess though her glare was not weakened. Renji cleared his throat. "You have yet to answer my questions."

"Hm? Oh, the blue haired man? That was Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques? He was the friend that I was with before."

Just like that, all of Ichigo's efforts to calm the two were wasted. Judging by the expression on their faces, the two were not anywhere close to done with yelling at him.

"_Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez?_" Rukia hissed. "This whole time you were gone, you were with _Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez_?"

"Uh, yes. I believe I _just_ said that. Really, Rukia, start paying attention."

"Ichigo," Renji's tone made the orange-haired youth stop joking. "Do you have any idea who he is?"

"Does it matter? He is my friend."

Rukia rolled her eyes, "That answers the question."

"Ichigo..." Renji paused, searching for the right words so as not to offend his friend. "Jeagerjacquez is notorious in our society for being... sybaritic."

His friend raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting him to elaborate.

The red head sighed. "Jeagerjacquez is a man ruled by impulse. He follows whatever interests him. Once he loses interest, whether it be trends, games, toys, or people, he tosses them aside as if it all means nothing to him. He has gone through more than a few lovers, if you can even call them that, and none have lasted more than a few weeks before he gets bored with them. He breaks their hearts like a child with toys, yet they would just as quickly crawl back to him. The man has no morals, no scruples, and he does not play by any rules. This is a man who literally does whatever, and whoever, he wants whenever he wants."

Rukia scoffed. "You keep calling him a man, but a real man would not lack the decency to at least apologize for making a lady cry. You should have seen Nemu after he ended their so-called relationship. She was in shambles, and this is _Nemu_ we speak of!" She huffed and crossed her arms. "I say he is more animal than man."

"My point is, Ichigo," Renji continued, "he is dangerous."

"How do you know? Have you ever actually spoken to him? Have you ever actually tried to get to know him?"

"I have no need to. Word of his reckless behavior spreads through these circles like wildfire. These rumors have to have come from _some_ where."

"Oh? So this means you have not. I would have thought that the two of you would know better than to heed the meaningless hearsay coming from the mouths of these idle wenches!"

"We _do_ know better!"

"How can you say that?! You have no idea who he is!"

"And how long have you known him, Ichigo?! Can you honestly say that _you_ know him?" Rukia fixed her large eyes upon him. "You cannot know what his true intentions are."

"No, I can't," Ichigo said. "But Grimmjow has given me no reason thus far to doubt him, and until he does, I will give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Ichigo," Renji pleaded. "We just do not want you to get hurt."

"We have seen what happens to the people who get too close to him. We just cannot bear to see the same thing happen to you."

Ichigo groaned. He could not believe that, out of all people, Renji and Rukia would be the ones to judge his friendship with Grimmjow. How long had they known each other?! By now, surely they should trust him to be able to separate liars from the honest.

Yet... they had never lied to him before and Ichigo knew that they wouldn't unless they thought it was for the best. It was for exactly that reason, that Ichigo held them so dear. They were his friends and they would never do anything to hurt him.

Ichigo looked at his two friends. The desperation on their faces and the concern in their voices spoke volumes for them. He lowered his head and clenched his fists.

No. Rukia and Renji would never lie to him, so that could only mean they were telling the truth about Grimmjow.

He smiled grimly at the irony of it all. Of course. Here he was, a proud intellectual yet he was foolish enough to fall for such a cliche plot. How could he be so _stupid_?

"Ichigo," Rukia asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. Just fine," Ichigo laughed bitterly and shook his head. He bit down on his lip and forced a smile on his face. "You were right."

"Oh, Ichigo." Rukia hadn't wanted this. All she wanted was her friend to be safe; she had not counted on that pained expression on his face. She reached for him but he shrugged off her touch.

"No, I-" Ichigo cleared his throat, ignoring that lump in it. "I think I will just head home first."

"We'll go with you!"

"No. You two stay here and have fun. I- I need to be alone right now." He smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes before turning around and leaving.

Ichigo took long strides and walked quickly to the door. He wanted to get out of here_. Now_. It felt like all eyes were on him and they were intrusively burning a hole through him. It felt like everyone could see how stupid he was. He felt his face grow hot with shame and he quickened his steps. It felt like his walls were crumbling and he was minutes away from crying. _'No,_' Ichigo thought. _'I won't cry. Not over someone like him.'_

This was exactly the reason why he left this environment in the first place. The lies, the facades, the games - - he was sick of it.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow caught him by the arm and grinned. "Did you find her already?"

The young man slapped the man's arm off of himself. "_Don't_," he snarled, "touch me."

The blue-haired man frowned. "Who pissed in _your_ glass of wine?"

"_Shut up._" Ichigo spun around and jabbed a finger into the taller man's chest. "It is people like you that make me so disgusted with the world. You have no respect for anyone. You play games and use people like entertainment. You do not have a single care for anyone in the world who isn't you!"

Grimmjow growled. "You had best watch what you say. What makes you think you have the right to speak to me that way?"

"Oh? Don't I? Am I not one of your many little toys? What's wrong? Does the master not find his toy's behavior _pleasing_?" Ichigo smirked, "You must regret this now; all this time and effort spent on such a disobedient little puppet. Don't you just wish you could throw me away just like all the others before me?"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You know exactly what I am talking about!" Ichigo snapped. He stepped into Grimmjow's space and hissed, "You approached me because you were going to use me and then dispose of me, just like all your other previous _interests_! Are you telling me I am wrong about that?"

Blue eyes glowed like the burn of fire but Ichigo did not back down.

Finally, Grimmjow silently said, "No."

Ichigo's gaze narrowed. "I knew it. Grimmjow, you really are a sick bastard." He shook his head at the other man. "I don't ever want to see your face again."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> Nine months... I am most ashamed. I am so sorry. (Especially to you, **God's Sense of Humor**, for being slow with this when this was supposed to be dedicated/written for you over a year and a half ago. And for making this story like 10 chapters long when I said 5. I hope you're still reading this story...) I have no good excuses for you. Thank you, **violentbrat**, for kindly reminding me to get on with it. So I did. :D Hopefully this extra-long chapter makes up for the time taken to write it. This is the longest piece of writing I have ever done, schoolwork not included.

**In case anyone is having trouble with the setting, picture Seireitei to be like Victorian Era London (which means mid to late 1800's), and Karakura to be like some small country town on the outskirts of the city. The clock tower is, of course, Big Ben. And the hovercraft, in my mind, is like a mechanical flying surfboard.


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